Our suite here is bigger than the Rabbit Hutch. And the bathroom has a much nicer view.

Our favourite New Yorker sought refuge too. Her Upper East Side apartment was not in Zone A, but all the stores and restaurants near her were closed, so she was basically fleeing boredom. Luckily for us, she brought provisions.

We hunkered down in front of the telly to stay abreast of the latest events. But we soon tired of watching excited weathermen with their special forecast graphics, and shots of newscasters standing waist deep in swollen rivers further down the coast.

So we headed out for a quick recon of the surrounding area, including the all-important Andaz hotel with that fabulous bar. They were pretty busy, but we soon learnt that it wasn't just The Gap being lame. Posh hotels aside, the city was on lock down. You'd almost think a hurricane was coming...

Bryant Park - closed for business.

Gifts on Sixth was the only store around Bryant Park that was open. Not helpful.

Unfortunately by the time we were dressed and ready for dinner, the rain was so heavy we feared even my sturdy metallic heels wouldn't make it to Andaz unscathed. We peered out of the window at the gathering clouds and rain, and decided it was safest to stay indoors. The Bryant Park Hotel has a decent bar of its own after all.

Probably not worth braving this just to go to a different hotel's bar.

Irene struck again: the hotel's Cellar Bar was not serving any of their fabulous speciality cocktails. Presumably their mixologist was trapped on the wrong side of one of New York's closed bridges. And the only food they were serving was cheese. They did however have a range of new Hurricane cocktails they had created specially. I'm not kidding.

So we wound up back in our suite, with the wise New Yorker, watching trashy movies and eating room service. (TLOML had wings and steak, on the grounds that it could be his last meal. Any excuse.) So much for my nice frock and high heels. What a waste, Irene!

This morning, we woke to look out on a rain soaked, wind battered New York. It seems, as we expected, the damage was pretty limited. We breathed a sigh of relief and ordered breakfast.

Transplanted to Los Angeles and then New York by The Love Of My Life (we’ll call him TLOML) - till I dragged him back to Britain. Writing about the cultural chasm, and our return to LA as a family of 3.